


Wallister and Tabernacle

by tiersein



Series: Helichoidal [3]
Category: Dinotopia - James Gurney
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Choices, Friendship, Gen, Heartwarming, Original Character(s), Partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-17
Updated: 2011-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-23 20:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiersein/pseuds/tiersein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tabby wants a rider and Wally wants a skybax. Shouldn't this be easy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wallister and Tabernacle

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Storyhearth Day 2009 at the Original Dinotopian Message Board.

With his wings tucked tightly around his thin, gangly body, a young skybax perched on an outcropping in the heights of Ebulon's monument to the great demi-saurian, Amon-Ceratops. With a keen, focused air, he watched forest fires flickering in the distance as the flames ravaged the eastern mountain slopes. Behind him, two adult skybax kept careful watch over the flock of youngsters and clucked worriedly among themselves. Snatches of conversation floated his way in the too-warm evening.

"Pines reduced to toothpicks," one of the forward reconnaissance fliers reported quietly. The skybax was all angles and especially thin from a hard season of distance flying. He'd just seen the nurse and his bright pink undersides had been slathered with cooling gel made from aloe. The young skybax, Tabby, had seen him approach and smothered his laughter as the older 'bax had hopped, flapping awkwardly, from ledge to ledge until he found somewhere comfortable to roost.

"And the Habitat Partners?" asked another flier, this one broader in the neck and shoulders, built to carry the big bags of water and dirt which were used to help combat the fires. His name was Stratus and Tabby knew him from a class he'd given on flying under heavy loads. "Have they decided on a course of action?"

* * *

At the Kleptodon Clan's encampment, the six master habitat partners had gathered with their best ecologists, biologists, and botanists to work on another plan for fire suppression. Tabby's mother had gone with her rider and the skybax Lightwing, Vinnie, Ax, and others, to give her input.

"Nothing's decided yet," said the skinny scout, nibbling at his sore, scorched wings. "They said if we have no more lightning, we might keep pushing the flames up the mountain and keep it contained once it reaches the ridge-top."

"Will it get to Tutak Abad?"

"Not if we're lucky."

"They keep saying the weather's going to change. It has to change."

"It's supposed to rain next week."

"It was supposed to rain last week."

Another skybax, of moderate size with a rider on his back, whipped overhead in the dark. To fly in the dark, as they were doing, was especially hazardous and only done by master riders. Tabby looked hopefully after the fast flier but didn't recognize his mother.

Behind him, the two skybax continued grumbling.

"Weather reports aren't conclusive."

"It's the lightning. If we can get the lightning to stop for a few days..."

Tabby looked back at them, craning his neck. "I haven't seen any lightning since sunset," he said helpfully.

The skybax on the left acknowledged his contribution to the conversation by hopping forward and extending his neck, brushing his beak lightly against Tabby's. "You and your keen eyes, Tabby. Have you met Spiral?" He inclined his head to the scout. "Spiral, this is Tabernacle. Tuscany's his mother. He's here with Tarmac, work with the new kids."

Tabby flushed slightly at the introduction and ducked his head. He'd been forced by Tarmac and Turbulence, the two skybax babysitters, to fly every day with the new kids in the beginner class but Tabby hadn't paid attention to any of them. He knew better than to disparage the young humans, though. Turbulence had all but knocked him out the last time he'd mentioned the lack of choices. He'd had to go lean against a wall in the depths of Ebulon until he could figure out which way was up.

The burned skybax, Spiral, straightened slightly and leaned forward to politely knock beaks with Tabby. "It's a pleasure," he said. "I know your mother."

"Who's your rider?" Tabby asked, because sometimes it seemed like everybody knew his mother and he could never keep them all straight.

"Felipe," Spiral said, amiable because Stratus had introduced them. Sometimes the older skybax were really rotten to the youngsters, especially when they were in the middle of flight operations.

"From Mont Joliette!" Tabby blurted, remembering a story he'd heard recently about the flamboyant skier. "In the mountains."

Stratus chuckled, looking down at Tabby fondly. "He knows all the riders, Spire."

"I guess so," Spiral said, clicking his beak in skybax laughter. "When are you getting one of your own, little ace?"

Tabby, Turbulence's beating fresh in his mind, lied, "Soon, I hope. We're going to play trust games again tomorrow."

Stratus hummed. "See anybody you trust?"

"... not yet," Tabby admitted.

Spiral made a rude noise, and Tabby flinched, expecting a lecture about choosing so he could help out with the firefighting, but the skinny adult skybax just shook his head ruefully. "I always hated those beginner flights," he admitted.

Tabby couldn't believe his ears. "You, too?"

"Sure, little ace. I know I wouldn't drop them but I was never sure they wouldn't throw themselves off."

"That's exactly what I always think. They're so ... _uncoordinated._ " Tabby shook his head, remembering the first time he'd flapped ten feet with a boy on his back.

The reaction he got from that bit of honest complaint wasn't what he'd expected: both Stratus and Spiral howled with laughter, Spiral shaking all over and Stratus flapping one wing violently.

After a second, Tabby realized what he'd said. Looking down at his own scrawny body, he shook his head in a mimicry of the common human expression and sighed, knowing how he looked compared to the adults.

Spiral hopped forward cheerfully and scooped him against his gel-slathered belly, still chuckling. "Come here, little ace. Let me tell you a secret. _Every single master_ out there started out by falling off. I promise."

Tabby narrowed his eyes, thinking of his mother's rider. "Even Master Farem?"

That set Stratus off again, flapping one wing wildly as he keened with laughter.

Spiral clicked his beak. "Oh, little ace, when you get a chance again, you should ask your mother about Master Farem. Ask her about the time he convinced her to try and solve the mystery of the Palace of the Winds."

"Or, and this is definitely related," Stratus interrupted. "Whether Windy Point is really windy, or if it's just a metaphor."

"And what a metaphor is, for that matter." That set both adults off in peals of laughter again.

Tabby, fascinated, didn't want to interrupt.

"I was there when they got back from the time they rescued that little psitta in Arboria," Spiral remembered.

Stratus nodded sagely. "Or the time they chased the pack of raptors away from Gammawamma... did you know raptors could climb trees?"

"No," Tabby admitted.

"Well, neither did your mom!" Spiral nearly fell over with another wave of laughter. Tabby had to admit he grinned a little at the mental image.

Stratus got hold of himself first; he sighed and said happily, "You've made my night, Tabs."

"Trust me, little ace, your mom's got _stories_ ," Spiral assured Tabby, hiccuping by then, and scooped the little skybax closer to his body.

Tabby, still a little stunned at these revelations, wrapped his wings tighter around his body and happily leaned against Spiral. His mother's rider had been delighted with him, always bringing a treat when they visited, but Tuscany herself had never really talked about their relationship. He couldn't imagine his mom as a little one, the same way he couldn't imagine Farem without the smooth, supreme confidence. Tabby had always wanted a rider like Farem, who knew what was what.

On second thought, Tabby didn't even really believe Spiral and Stratus; they were probably pranking him. Farem _falling off?_ Never.

A squawk of dismay from Spiral shook Tabby from his thoughts. The youngster looked up to see lightning flicker across the northern sky.

* * *

No matter how Wallister Carrow tried, he couldn't seem to get his beginner rider's uniform to fit. It hadn't settled right around his upper arms and torso back at the tailor's shop in Canyon City but the tailor had told him he'd grow into it.

"You'll bulk up in the shoulders with all those riding exercises," she'd promised him, tucking the tape measure into a pocket of her voluminous orange robes. Everyone in Canyon City seemed to pick colors which clashed horribly with those of both the skybax and the red-streaked cliffs. "Just give it a couple weeks and if it doesn't work out, you just come back in and we'll see what we can do."

He would've loved to, but he wasn't in Canyon City anymore. Even though they'd held it earlier than expected, summer camp at the twelve great monuments of Ebulon would've been fun if it hadn't had that fervent, awful thread of adrenaline ruining the atmosphere. Even the classes Wally normally liked had taken a turn for the worse. Instead of concentrating, it seemed like everyone had one ear and one eye trained on the fires in the distant foothills. This made him twice as nervous when they were practicing flying together.

On this particular morning, it seemed like there were more boys than usual crowding at the windows while Wally tried to make his shoulder badges sit on his upper arms instead of sticking up at an angle. It looked like _he_ had stubby little wings and no matter which way he pushed them, they were always askew. He knew he looked ridiculous.

"Lightning during the night," one of the boys said, behind him, looking out one of the windows at the mountains to the north. "And the winds have picked up. Look that that: the flames have jumped the fire lines."

"There's Tutak Abad," another boy said, sounding shocked, and the hubbub immediately hushed. Wally recognized the name of the forest settlement they'd visited two weeks prior and refused to go to the window, staring pointedly at his reflection in the stone pool of cool wash-water instead. The working party at Tutak Abad had cut back trees and thrown as much water as they could on the houses until all the non-fliers were packed onto the sauropods and evacuated southeast overland to the towering half human, half saurian monuments of Ebulon.

"Come on, Wally," one of the other boys said, coming up behind him and patting him companionably on the back. "Let's go out to the platform. It looks like skybax are coming!"

 _Well, skybax could be good,_ Wally thought, and followed the group of boys down the steps and through the kitchen. Even if he still didn't know what the pterosaurs were saying, ever. That worried him, too. How was he supposed to be able to fly around on a skybax if it couldn't tell him what to do?

"Anybody know what's on the plan today?" he asked, as they joined the girls in the crowded dining room.

"Trust exercises, I think," one of them said.

"Fliers!" came the shout from the lookouts. "Inbound!"

"Not trust exercises now, I bet," said another girl in a very know-it-all tone as they joined the crowd of skybax, riders, and trainees gathering on the platform outside in the sun. Thick clouds of smoke distorted the view to the north and the air smelled foul.

"Maria counted ten skybax just a minute ago," the girl continued. "There's no way they'll make us go to class if the skybax have got new orders."

"Ten adults? How's that possible? Don't they have somewhere to be?"

"With the fire so close to Tutak Abad?"

"They can't be giving up ..."

"It's the ones from the conference!" announced the authoritative boy who'd patted Wally on the back upstairs. His name was Araniye and he'd become one of the natural leaders of the group, impressively tall and broad-shouldered; he'd also already befriended a sturdy, yellow-and-black skybax called Hustle. He was probably going to be one of the first to fly properly with a partner and Wally didn't know whether to be jealous or terrified for him.

At the moment, Wally just let himself be swept up in the crowd. It wasn't just humans now. The various messenger birds and younger skybax taking classes were flapping down to perch all over the face of the monument above the landing platform, squawking and jostling for a better view. As the adult skybax made one fly-by to check the landing conditions on the platform, Wally saw that all of them were the enormous, mature leaders who bore men and women wearing the blue uniforms of master riders. As the waiting crowd pushed back into Ebulon to give the arrivals room to land, one of the thin, young skybax whom Wally was pretty sure he'd met in class already pushed roughly past everyone and bounded out to greet them, squawking.

Wally felt dwarfed, suddenly, and looked up to see Tarmac, one of the master skybax who watched over the flock of youngsters. The adult squawked something over Wally's head to the youngster and Wally frowned, thinking how totally unfair it was that he couldn't know what they were saying to each other.

The master riders surprised him, though. As Master Oolu dismounted, he merely stepped aside to make a path for the youngster. "Watch out," he called to the others, chuckling as he unclipped a briefcase from Lightwing's saddle. "Incoming!"

Friendly laughter from the group did a little to defuse the tension in the crowd, and two of the apprentice riders came forward to talk to Master Oolu while several adult skybax hopped forward to get the news from their counterparts.

* * *

Just a few minutes earlier, Tabby had leaned over the crowded edge of the monument, watching the elegant adult skybax gliding in for smooth, composed landings on the slick rock. The conference results were already being squawked from 'bax to 'bax but Tabby found he didn't care much about them; he had scanned the group from the moment their silhouettes came into view, straining to see if ... maybe ... _yes!_

"Look, Tarmac!" he shouted, unable to contain himself. "It's mom!" Tabby launched himself from the ledge, laughing, clicking his beak in a hello as he sorted out his wings and flapped happily towards the gathered skybax. "Mom! _Mom!_ "

His approach was greeted with good-natured laughter from the group on the platform. "Watch out," one of the master skybax riders called to the group, stepping aside for him. "Incoming!" The masters all recognized him, of course. He'd been bothering skybax riders since he'd fallen out of the nest and been retrieved from a fissure by a young apprentice, so he could name most of the men and women in the group. They stepped aside to allow him a path to his mother, and he swooped to a sprawled landing at her feet, chittering with happiness.

Her rider, Farem, getting leaner every year he got older, was thin with sun-darkened skin and fond, warm brown eyes which always seemed to smile, no matter what his mouth was doing. Tabby could see more gray in his curly brown hair and thought it made him look even better, like he was more dignified. Tabby took a moment to watch as Farem dismounted with an ease none of the beginners could ever hope to match.

"Hello there," Farem said, landing lightly on his feet, and Tabby straightened up because he was finally, _finally_ taller than his mother's rider. Farem chuckled. "Glad to see us?"

Tabby squawked happily at the cheerful tone of Farem's words and then promptly melted as Farem took his beak in his careful, expert hands and lightly scrubbed the chitin. He crooned happily despite his best intentions and his mother snorted to herself, turning to speak to another of the adults in the group. Tabby adored her rider. _You,_ he thought, bumping Farem with his beak, _are the coolest rider ever_.

Tabby opened his eyes as the attention suddenly ceased and saw that his mother had bumped her crest against her rider's back. "You'll have to go in," she said to Farem. "The report." The words were said out of habit, for the skybax present; she bobbed her head slightly towards the open cavern and Farem understood.

"Yes, Balam wanted my help in the strategy." Farem sighed and patted her chest, beckoning with his fingers for her to squat down so he could carefully untie the saddle from her back. Around him, the other riders were doing the same, so that meant his mom would be here for a day, at least! Tabby opened his beak to ask her all about the conference, but then his mom, very deliberately, straightened up with that serious look in her eye and said "don't think this gets you out of your classes, Tabernacle."

Oh, she used his full name. Tabby looked up at his mom as his heart fell. _Classes._ How was he supposed to concentrate on classes when stuff was on fire and his mom was home?

"I'll be here all day," she promised, nudging him with one foot. "We'll go up to one of the springs and find something fishy for dinner."

"You promise?" he asked, mollified. Beginners and trainees never got to go flying without their whole class tagging along. But if his mom went ... oh yeah, that would be perfect. Who was gonna argue with a skybax mom?

"I promise," she said, then knocked her beak lightly against his. "Go on."

Tabby butted his head against her again. "Okay. Love you."

"I'm proud of you," she called. "Go on with Tarmac now."

* * *

As the adults circled up on the platform for a council, the youngsters' masters rounded up their charges. The human trainer, Saul, led the boys and girls down the steep steps to a winding path along the edge of the lake; Tarmac and Turbulence herded the rambunctious skybax youngsters by air above their heads. This monument was also a seated demi-saurian but into its base was carved a series of platforms that were the perfect height for a new rider on a short flight. A room just inside one of the doors held saddles, pads, goggles, and the rest of the flying implements.

At Canyon City, the skybax had been loaded with bags of sand to accustom them to the weight of a rider while the trainees had been made to balance on ropes, boards, bags, and tied pieces of canvas before they were allowed short flights on the skybax. As the trainees gathered up the saddles, Wally felt his heart jump up into his throat. He knew _what_ to do, he just never knew _how_ to do it.

 

"Short flights today, folks," Saul called out. "Same as we've done all week. Saddle up and prep for flight. Araniye with Hustle, Rhodia with Zethri, Wallister with Tabernacle ..."

Someone, probably Tarmac, had taken note of Wally's interest in the thin, gangly 'bax because Wally found 'Tabernacle' next to him as the trainees fell into a ragged line behind Araniye and the oddly-colored Hustle; those two wasted no time. Araniye threw the ropes of the saddle around Hustle, stepped close to him, and began to hum in the pre-flight ritual to build trust.

Tarmac took his customary place on the first of the wide, flat platforms about thirty skybax-length away and called up permission to fly.

Wally, being third in line, saw Araniye's delighted, mischievous grin as he crawled into place on Hustle's back. Without thinking, Wally tapped Tabernacle lightly on the wing, just as he would any boy in his class, and pointed for the skybax to watch, which Tabernacle did, intently. _Something was going to happen._

Holding on tight, goggles over his eyes, Araniye clucked to signal he was ready for flight. Hustle waddled to the edge of the platform and looked down at the five necks of height below him. Then, with abandon, the stocky skybax snapped his wings back and dropped off the platform like a rock.

Turbulence called away a warning for speed but, almost as he hit the ground, Hustle threw his wings open and swept up in a graceful inverted parabola, using his speed to gain altitude. Racing through the air, he and Araniye looked like an Olympic thrower's javelin; everybody could see his flight path passed right over Tarmac on the landing platform at an impressive height.

One of the boys behind Wally whooped at the top of his lungs and another started laughing, shouting after them: "Yeah!" The others broke off into a hubbub.

"I _told_ you he'd be first!"

"You owe me chores now," said the girl in front of Wally, Rhodia, to another boy. "A week of sweeping, don't forget!"

Hustle, having justified his name, angled his wings so as to make a wide, gentle circuit of the lake. Wally looked over at Turbulence to see if he was going to go get the pair but the skybax was covering a wide yawn with one wing, his attention clearly distracted by the distant fires.

The flight was short, for Hustle knew he'd be in trouble if he went on forever, so he and Araniye came back around to land among the rest of the crowd of students instead of with Tarmac on the lower platform.

"Can we go again?" Araniye asked, gasping for breath, taking Master Saul's helping hand as he slid off Hustle's back. He nearly fell against the master rider because he couldn't get his legs to work properly. Wally felt uncomfortable at the naked expression on Araniye's face: the older boy looked stunned but exulted. "It's so hard to breathe when the wind's rushing past your face like that!"

Chuckling, Saul patted him on the back as Turbulence chatted with Hustle, checking the stocky 'bax over for wing strain and, possibly, sanity. "Not a bad first go, you two. You're well-matched in build. Hustle's's got the right of it for how to get speed and altitude with your weight."

"Oh, I know it's all him," Araniye agreed, laughing, sliding the goggles up on his forehead as he turned back to look up at Hustle, who made proud and contented noises.

Saul guided Araniye away from the edge of the platform, shaking his head.

"All right, kids. Who's up next? Wally? Tabernacle? You gonna do that for us?"

"Uh." Wally stepped forward, his heart hammering. "Nothing like that."

He looked at Tabernacle and saw the skybax nodding his emphatic agreement; Wally nearly laughed out loud because there was that same terrified, _you've got to be kidding_ look that he knew was on his own face. This platform was up higher than ever before, so this flight was the longest yet, and he'd never flown with Tabernacle before anyway. What if he fell off? What if he threw off the 'bax and Tabernacle couldn't land?

 _What if, what if._

"No lake flights," he muttered to Tabernacle, holding on tight to the edge of the saddle. "Short and sweet."

If Tabernacle didn't understand the content of his words, Wally knew he understood the tone: flat and short. Unlike Hustle, when Tabernacle launched off the platform, his wings unfurled almost immediately to catch the air beneath them and float, leisurely, wind sailing past Wally's face, to the platform, where he landed gently.

 _What,_ Wally thought, un-peeling his fingers from the saddle. _That's it?_

Within seconds, Tarmac stood over them, wings out, checking them both for injuries.

"Good flight!" one of the boys shouted from the platform behind them.

"No points for style!" yelled another.

 _No, I want more,_ Wally thought a second later. That had been intensely anticlimactic. He slid from Tabernacle's back and tried to make eye contact with the 'bax, to see if Tabernacle felt the same way, and while he thought the look he saw was disappointed, he couldn't be sure. Wally tried to hide his frustration; he would've liked to fly further and higher, but how could he tell that to Tabernacle for next time?

* * *

Later that afternoon, Tabby flapped alongside his mom as they flew low over Ebulon's network of lakes, connected to each other by small streams so that from the air they looked like a chain of interlocking rings between the monuments and green trees. The late afternoon air felt especially thick so both skybax stayed below the low cloud-cover, dipping down to skim the water, flipping fish to each other as they wandered too close to the surface. Tabby, discomfited, performed a loop-the-loop as he thought about his mom and her rider. His mom just didn't understand what his problem was; she and Farem met in the nest, so they just had to wait until Farem was old enough to hold on tight.

"I'm proud of you," his mom said as they landed at the towering monument to Amon-Ceratops. "You can hold a rider. Tarmac said only good things about you. Just don't be so picky. Give them a chance."

"But how does Farem know what you're thinking all the time?" Tabby asked, fretting. "How can I make a rider understand?"

His mother didn't have any good advice. "Patience, love," was all she said.

Tabby rolled his eyes.

While they had been catching up, the aerial council had produced new orders for many of the fliers. Master Oolu gathered the active riders and Lightwing took the pack of adult skybax to the heights. Tabby tried to tag along but was turned back by Turbulence.

"Go and get Hustle," his stern instructor told him. "Tell him to hustle."

"Ha, ha, ha," Tabby said, and went off to do as directed. He found Hustle playing flapscotch with a couple of messenger birds. "Turbulence wants you up on the heights for orders," he said, absently accepting the two messenger birds' request to perch on his crest.

"Really?" Hustle looked up, stunned.

"Turbulence said so. I'm gonna come along..."

"Oh yeah." Hustle laughed like the crazy, carefree flier Tabby knew he was, and, without ado, launched himself off the platform to get some air.

The riders were all sequestered inside in the dining area while the skybax up above gathered in their assigned teams. Tabby watched the scouts pair off with searchers and carriers. They were so _professional_.

Spiral, on a medical watch for another day, flapped down to where Tabby sat and chirped a 'hello'.

"I'm really happy for Hustle," Tabby admitted.

"I heard your flight wasn't too bad, either."

"He didn't know what he wanted to do and he wouldn't listen to me," Tabby complained.

"You're not nearly as useful to Dinotopia if you don't have a rider, little ace," Spiral said, wrapping his wings around himself and hunching into them like they were a cloak. "Look at Tarmac or Turbulence."

Tabby rolled his eyes. "Everybody knows Tarmac flies Saul anywhere he wants to go, even if they aren't official partners. All the human boys called Saul 'Master'."

"Saul and Tarmac don't get to be a part of the regular work, though," Spiral countered. "Better to fly with the right one early than hold out for perfection. Nobody's perfect."

"Spire, it's just not _fair_."

The older skybax didn't care. "Fair doesn't have anything to do with it, little ace. You don't have opposable thumbs and they don't have wings. We're meant to be together."

* * *

There were always a lot more beginner riders than young skybax so Wally hadn't even really expected to be successful in his attempt at flying. He hadn't come to the Canyon by winning a qualifying event at the Olympics, but he'd wanted to be a skybax rider from the time he was a little boy watching the plodding, relentless, back-breaking work of carving rock from the Marmor Quarries. His first field trip to Prosperine had been to see the result of the mining that brought so much honor to his family, but his daydreams had contained skybax, not stonework.

So he'd come to the Great Canyon on a wing and a prayer, as the storytellers liked to say, and his family, he suspected, were just waiting for him to come to his senses. He knew he'd be welcomed back home any time he wanted.

"What was it like?" he asked Araniye, who had flown with Hustle in the afternoon again under the watchful eye of Turbulence. Tabernacle, Wally found himself annoyed to discover, was nowhere to be found.

"It's _amazing_ ," the older boy leaned back, resting on his elbows in the cloudy evening. "I can go anywhere now, Wally. Any cliff, any spire. You know how great that is? I've wanted it _forever_. And I'll fly tomorrow from the Kleptodon Camp, helping out taking messages from the command post to the fire crews.

Wally sighed. He'd come this far, why didn't he want to go further? Araniye's life suddenly sounded like it had _purpose_. Short flights a few feet above the ground obviously wouldn't kill him or the skybax, so why wasn't Wally willing to just hop on and go? It bothered him that he couldn't talk to Tabernacle, like he couldn't ever know if the 'bax really wanted him on it. He admitted this aloud but Araniye shrugged it off.

"If he doesn't want you, why do you think he wouldn't buck you off? Or not let you on in the first place."

"That's true."

"That one you flew with today, what was his name?"

"Tabernacle," Wally said.

"You flew really well together."

"It was thirty necks of gliding!"

"Well," Araniye said, sensible as always. "That's where Hustle and I started. Why don't you go find him tonight? That's what I did with Hustle. I just went up to see how he was feeling, took up something fishy from the kitchen. Got talking a little. Skybax are _easy_." He nudged Wally with his foot and a grain. "Way easier than girls. They don't want flowers, just fish and some sweet talking."

Wally gave him a skeptical, side-long look. "You talked to him? Does he really talk back?"

Araniye sighed, frustrated. "You and everybody else. They talk! Just pay attention. You don't have to be a ceratops to understand it. They're talking all the time to each other."

Abashed, Wally looked at the starry sky instead of at Araniye. "Sorry."

"It's just that everybody says that. Like I'm crazy. Except the other riders," he added thoughtfully. "That's probably why all the skybax riders are so close to each other. Who else are you going to convince that chirps are actually words?"

Wally considered this. "Not a lot of people see past the uniform," he admitted.

"See, you've got it." Araniye patted him on the back. "Do you want me to ask Hustle?"

"Uh," Wally started, but Araniye shook his head and hopped to his feet. "Just a second. Stay there."

Hustle must have been nearby because Araniye was back in seconds, sliding down the sloped rock to where Wally perched, two ungainly skybax flapping along behind him. Hustle, his dark coloring standing out oddly in the dark, chirped a 'hello' but Tabernacle, behind him, eyed Wally suspiciously and said nothing.

"Stop fighting it," Araniye advised, sitting down a few feet up the slope. "I don't know how to say it. Just do what feels right instead of holding back. You've gotta commit. Why would he commit to you if you don't commit to him?"

Wally looked up at Tabernacle, who cocked his head in that comical, sideways manner. The skybax's beady black eyes reflected the faint flickering light of the campfires. Hustle, aware of the tension, hummed a silly theme song from the quiz game they played back in the Canyon.

"Hi," Wally finally said, resolving not to flinch under Araniye's expected laughter.

Tabernacle chirped in the same matter-of-fact tone. Araniye didn't say a word.

"You want to come over here?" Wally asked, patting the ground beside him. He scooted a little bit to the side and Tabernacle, while he very clearly did not move, appeared to listen intently. Wally wondered suddenly if Hustle would be the one to give Tabernacle some sort of lecture about commitment and not holding back.

"S'okay," Wally said, because it was, and because the only sounds in the night were a crackling campfire and burbling laughter from the skybax riders on the platform far below them.

Araniye got to his feet and patted him like an older brother on the back. "That's a start," he said. "Now, I'm going to bed. We have a really full day tomorrow. I'll see you in the evening, I think."

"Okay." Wally looked up at him, saw the way Hustle clucked a 'good night' at Tabernacle, and followed the older boy, _his partner_ , towards Amon-Ceratops' eye-window.

When they had gone, Tabernacle made a small, thoughtful sound and unexpectedly hopped down to Wally's level. He awkwardly wrapped his wings around him and shuffled right up next to Wally, who looked up at him.

They both sat there for a moment, clearly at a loss for words.

"I'm pretty bad at this," Wally said, rueful.

Tabernacle squawked under his breath and looked at his feet, shuffled them.

Wally grinned. "You think we're just messed up, or is this always how it is?"

Tabernacle looked up, craned his neck around, and peered at Wally. He chirped. Wally thought he could detect a note of optimism.

"I'm pretty uncoordinated," Wally admitted.

Another chirp, accepting this, maybe.

"Also pretty not-confident. Not incompetent though, I don't think."

He looked back out at the faintly flickering flames on the distant mountainside. They seemed further away than usual and the thick clouds of smoke must have really been obscuring the stars because the night seemed very murky. Wally laughed out loud for a second; his whole life, all his dreams, leading up to this moment and all he could think about was the weather.

Maybe it was the laughter but Tabernacle suddenly surprised him by opening one wing and sidling closer, raising it over Wally's head like a tent.

"Thanks," Wally said reflexively, and looked up. He then heard rather than felt the faint sound of water droplets pattering on the thin membrane of Tabernacle's wing. He frowned and tried to see again through the darkness to the mountainside before it hit him. Not clouds of smoke from the fires,, storm-clouds. _Rain._

* * *

Tabby had smelled the scent of rain for some time before it began to drizzle, so he had debated whether or not to herd the beginner Wallister after his friend into the great eye-window of the monument. When the rain started, though, the first thing he thought was to keep Wallister dry. His wing went out almost before he realized it and he considered the feelings in him suspiciously.

The feeling of rain on his wings after the awful, hot, oppressive air felt good, like a dip in the lake. He heard a rush of wings over his head and then a call echoed from the look-out: someone's meteorologist rider was bringing out measuring devices to capture and count the rainfall.

Wallister said something to him but Tabby wasn't listening; he looked down at human boy and chirped a query. "Thank you," Wally repeated. "I know it's selfish but I hope it stops tomorrow long enough to get another flight in." He paused, reached up, patted Tabby's knobby knees. "Fly tomorrow?"

Tabby parsed this and considered it, chirped his tentative assent. He could always take it back later. But he wanted to _fly_ and he wouldn't get cleared to follow Hustle into the flight operations until he picked a rider.

Wally leaned forward, suddenly, and looked up at Tabby like he'd just had a surprising thought.

"Want me to find a couple of the sweet fish from dinner?" he asked, oblivious to the skybax's inner monologue. "There are some still in the buckets in the dining room. I bet I can find a couple fresh ones if I ask nicely."

Tabby straightened up without hesitation, aware of the word "fish" and the helpful tone in Wally's voice. He chirped to show he'd heard, though he still felt a little skeptical. Maybe he'd heard wrong.

As the boy got to his feet, Tabby felt his heart speed up a little bit. Opposable thumbs, sweet-talking of cooks ... maybe this was something to pursue. Maybe Wallister could be trained. If not, after he'd eaten the fish, Tabby could always dump him in the lake, hide from Turbulence's wrath, and try again next year.

He'd have to talk to Spiral and Stratus to see what they had to say about this, but he figured he could afford to gamble.


End file.
